


Deceiving The King - Gotham FanFiction

by Lavilin



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Gen, OC, Rela Wallmaster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-20 09:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19989688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavilin/pseuds/Lavilin
Summary: The criminal world of Gotham is like slippery ice: one wrong step and it breaks. A penguin knows all about its sturdiest parts, so spending time with one seems like the best option. But deceiving him is incredibly dangerous... Especially when he's more cunning than you could ever hope to be.





	1. Approach

_**The club**_ was located on a high floor of a tall building, naturally. I was wearing my most intense jacket. Black felt reaching my knees. Inner pockets galore. My hair was tied back, tightly. The areas around my eyes were dark with make-up. I always considered this my battle armor. That way, I would immediately have the upper hand on the battlefield.

The elevator went up way too slowly in my opinion. The nerves I thought I had put somewhere far away were suddenly leaking through my body again. With crude, mental violence, I managed to pound them back to where they came from until I stopped feeling them.

PING!

The Iceberg Lounge.

It was called the Iceberg Lounge because penguins love ice. And of course because there was a large, steaming block of ice standing on a pedestal in the center of the lounge. 

The lounge was quiet and empty. I strode inside, ready to make my presence known in a loud way. However, I was caught off guard by the sight of the frozen man inside the block of ice. I shouldn't have been surprised; after all, I knew that there was someone in the ice, and yet it confused me, if only for a moment. I took a deep breath.

"Mr. Penguin?!" I called out. "I have something to ask you!"

English wasn't my first language, so my American accent was far from perfect. I wouldn't let that stand in my way though. I prepared myself for the stumbling and the quick approach of a penguin.

He dashed around the corner, his black hair stood up straight and he was wearing a black suit with a shiny, purple tie. His eyes were wide and he waddled up to me at high speed.

“Who are you? What do you want?” he asked immediately.

I didn’t move a muscle, not even when he got uncomfortably close and I could see all the little veins in his fierce eyes.

“My name is Rela Wallmaster,” I said calmly. “I am looking for a place to do an internship.”

He gritted his teeth.

“I don’t take interns,” he said with a broad, irritated grin. “And we’re closed. Goodbye.”

He turned around so fast that I almost lost my balance because of the air friction that came with it. I braced myself.

“I assure you, Mr. Penguin, it is in your best interest.”

He turned around and approached me again, even quicker this time.

“What part of ‘I don’t take interns’ didn’t you understand?” he said fiercely, still wearing that cold smile.

“I can keep the press informed about you,” I responded immediately in a loud voice. “I have a way with media and publicity. And of course, I will only send them information that will be beneficial to you.”

He squinted his eyes at me.

“What kind of student are you? A journalist?”

“Yes,” I said calmly. “But to be fair, I am greatly interested in gaining a higher position before I start an official job. I can get you to be respected by all of Gotham, if you’ll let me. And it will all be free of charge.”

Penguin leaned forward and tilted his head.

“You do have guts, I’ll give you that,” he said. “But as a journalist, I take it you’ve been following the news regarding my actions the last couple of years.” He smiled. “So you are aware I kill people on a regular basis, are you not?”

“Very aware,” I said without flinching. “But the fact is that you rule Gotham now. Everything you did was for a reason. I am not disturbed by the blood on your hands.”

He finally took some distance and I had to suppress a sigh of relief.

“You’re making it almost impossible for me to refuse,” he said with a chuckle while limping to the block of ice. He looked thoughtfully at the frozen man. “What do you think, Ed?” Penguin asked the ice. “Hm. You’re right... She does, doesn’t she?”

I had to blink a few times not to display an expression of pure confusion. Fortunately, my face was completely neutral when he turned around like a wound up spring.

“Fine,” he then said. “You can work here as my publicity servant. But!” He raised a finger. “I expect honesty. I’d like to see if you can write true articles about me and my actions in such a way that the people of Gotham have no choice but to agree with everything I do.”

“I understand, Mr. Penguin,” I said. “I will justify your every action. Hell, you could destroy everything in Gotham and I would still find a way to make you into a hero.”

He looked at me and for a moment I noticed a sparkle in his eyes. He gestured at me with a grin.

“You really are something, aren’t you?” he said. He turned around and started to limp away. “I expect to see you here tomorrow morning at 8 o’clock in the morning. Oh, and..”

To my frustration, he turned around once again and took a few big steps toward me. He tilted his head when he stood right before me again.

“You... remind me of myself,” he said quietly. “So... I do wonder what your true goal is here.”

I blinked.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” I said in a serious voice.

He laughed.

“No, of course you don’t.”

Suddenly he placed his hand on my shoulder and stroked the black felt of my jacket. I flinched, but refused to back down. He studied my clothes and looked back at me with a grin.

“I like your suit of armor, by the way,” he said, winking.

I swallowed inaudibly and decided not to answer while looking at him. Then he finally turned around again and waddled out of the room. As soon he was out of eyesight, I felt a strong desire to leave this room as quickly as possible. I strode to the elevator doors and gave the frozen man one last glance. He stared anxiously ahead. I stepped into the elevator and once the doors were closed, I took a deep breath. That actually went quite well, I thought to myself. Only that last sentence he uttered was bothering me. My... armor. I rubbed my shoulder where he had placed his hand. That Oswald had become rather frightening over the years...

When the elevator had finally reached the ground floor, I felt much better. I watched as the doors opened with a PING! and I took a step forward to exit the elevator.

But the next moment, I stood right in front of a bald, pale man with a leather jacket. He smiled an unpleasant smile.

“Hello,” he said with a perfectly dry voice and he stepped aside while gesturing at me to step outside.

I needed a moment to remove the fear from my face, because I had not expected to encounter this man already. When I found my most neutral expression again, I nodded and stepped out the elevator. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was trying to make eye contact, but I didn’t have any courage left at that moment. Without looking back, I left the building of the Iceberg Lounge.


	2. Morning

_**Notebook. Check.**_  
Pencil. Check.  
Map of the city. Check.  
ID and driver’s license. Check.  
Camera. Check.  
Lighter... Check.

I zipped up my handbag and hanged it around my neck. The first day inside the criminal underworld of Gotham had begun. The apartment where I lived was only a few blocks away from the Iceberg Lounge, so I decided not to use public transport. And by the way, walking is good for you! I wasn’t in possession of a car, but perhaps I could use my driver’s license for something else. I looked at myself in the mirror before I left my apartment and set foot on the streets of Gotham.

It was getting crowded in the city. Many civilians were already up and traveling to the location of their jobs. I arrived at the building of the Iceberg Lounge; it was still quiet there. In fact, there was no one present when I walked into the lobby at 8 AM. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, it was a fact that the building contained many rooms that were intended for nocturnal activities. I pressed the button of the elevator and the PING! sounded right away.

The elevator went up in silence. They could play some music in here, I thought to myself. If only a tiny little melody. Something like, pam, padam padam! Pam padam! Pam, padam, padam!

Eh, on second thought, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

PING!

To my surprise, I saw nobody in the Iceberg Lounge, except for the frozen man. I carefully walked up to the ice to give him a closer look.

He had his arms raised when he was frozen. He looked anxious and had his mouth open, as if he desperately wanted to say something. He wore a black bowler hat and his clothes were shiny green. Could he still be alive in there? Was he able to see? Hear? The thought filled me pity, but I realized I might just be looking at a corpse...

I felt I couldn’t stand looking at him any longer and I turned around. The bald man was suddenly in the room, his head tilted and a huge amount of guns around his waist. His sudden presence startled me again, but this time I was better prepared. Without showing any fear, I approached him and stuck out my hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” I said politely. “My name is Rela Wallmaster. You must be Victor Zsasz.”

He had a dark look in his eyes and he shook my hand with an odd smirk.

“I am,” he said with a monotone voice. “Penguin told me about you. Hope you have as much fun working for him as me.”

“I doubt that’s possible, Mr. Zsasz,” I said with a smile.

Zsasz seemed to consider that for a moment and grinned.

“Yeah... You’re right. It’s not.”

He walked to the bar and sat down on one of the stools while stretching out. I watched him for a moment but he didn’t pay any more attention to me. If there was anyone who seemed to have not a single care in the world, it was Victor Zsasz. I knew he was a murderer, but in contrast to most murderers in Gotham, he wasn’t driven by his emotions. He simply did it because he got paid and human lives meant nothing to him. I knew I didn’t have to be worried about him bothering me, unless Penguin ordered him to. Even more reasons to be extra careful around that bird...

I looked around the room once again, but there was no one else there.

“Mr. Zsasz, do you know where Mr. Penguin is?” I asked politely.

Zsasz hardly turned around.

“He’s probably still asleep,” he responded. He grabbed ahold of one of his guns. “You wanna fire some shots to wake him up?”

I quickly raised my hands and shook my head.

“N-no, sir, thank you,” I said hastily.

“Too bad,” he sighed in disappointment while letting go of his gun. He turned back and continued leaning on the bar.

I decided to take a look at the interior of the lounge. It was actually quite elegantly furnished. Blue and purple neon umbrellas hanged on the walls, giving everything in the room a lilac glow. The chairs and couches all had a gothic or Victorian style. Penguin’s taste was pretty good. I noticed a small, shiny statue of a penguin on the bar. I approached it and was surprised at how cute it looked. Oswald had really made that nickname his own, that’s why I always called him by it. I picked up the penguin statue to give it a closer look. It was made of solid silver. Where on earth did he get these supplies..?

“Nice statue, right?”

I jumped and almost dropped the statue. I quickly put it back on the bar and turned to Penguin who was suddenly standing next to me with a broad grin on his face. How did I not hear him approach me with that limp of his?

“Yes sir,” I said quickly. “I was just admiring the decoration of your lounge. Absolutely love the umbrellas too.”

“I’m glad you do!” he said, laughing while giving me a pat on the shoulder. “We are going to have a busy day today. Isn’t that right, Victor?”

Zsasz wasn’t paying attention, so he looked up with a confused expression while going “huh??”.

Penguin waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh nevermind!” he growled. “Listen— Rela, was it, right? Today is the day that I meet up with Sofia Falcone. It’s quite a big deal for the criminal underworld of Gotham, but, heh heh, I doubt you’ll understand anything of it.”

“I take it Sofia Falcone is the daughter of Carmine Falcone?” I said. “I get why that would be a big deal in the underworld. The Falcone family still has its followers, so the return of that family would be a threat to your position as... ruler of Gotham.”

The grin on his face was absurdly big. He seemed pleased with my knowledge, and he looked triumphantly at Zsasz who stared indifferently at the air in front of him.

“Clever girl!” Penguin said cheerfully. “And yet...” Then, suddenly, a frightening and penetrating glance appeared on his face. “Maybe a little too clever.”

“I’ve done a fair amount of research,” I said as nonchalant as I could. “I didn’t think there would be anything wrong with that.”

“There isn’t,” he said. “But remember that I’ll be keeping a very close eye on you. If you do anything that could result in, I don’t know... betrayal... I will personally poke your eyeballs out.”

Don’t swallow, I thought to myself. Don’t blink. No fear.

“Understood, sir,” I said calmly.

He didn’t seem satisfied by my reaction, to my surprise, and he turned around.

“Pull yourself together, Victor,” he said. “You have a few errands to run before I meet up with Sofia.”

“I do?” Zsasz asked.

“Yes,” Penguin said loudly. “Do you remember what I spoke to you about yesterday? Hm??”

“Oh right,” Zsasz then responded with a grin. He looked my way. “He told me I gotta take out some of Falcone’s followers.”

“She’s doesn’t need to know that!” Penguin yelled, almost stamping his feet. “Oh, forget it, just... Just do your job.”

Zsasz stood up and checked a few of his weapons on bullets. With a satisfied smile he stepped into the elevator and left the lounge. The next moment, it was silent.

I swayed back and forth on my legs, trying to think of something that could break this uneasy silence.

“If I may ask,” I decided to say, “is Sofia Falcone aware I will be coming with you to the meeting?”

“No, she’s not,” Penguin said. “But I don’t expect you to be that much of a presence. At least, I certainly hope you won’t be. If you stay in the background, observe and... do whatever it is you do improve my reputation, they I will be very pleased.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Mr. Penguin,” I said.

I noticed him squinting at me for a moment before averting his gaze. I felt he still had a great distrust for me, but I didn’t completely understand why. Perhaps I would be able to prove myself during the meeting with Sofia Falcone, and maybe even win his trust. If I just did what he said and showed no fear... it had to work.


	3. The Question Game

_**We went**_ by car. A beautiful, shiny, black car. I didn’t know what brand it was, but it seemed perfectly suitable for the king of the underworld. I sat in the backseat, near the left window. Penguin also sat in the backseat, near the right window. We were taken by a driver who hadn’t introduced himself to me. I looked out the window at the countless buildings we passed by. The city life wasn’t suited for me. It was always busy. Day and night. There was never a moment of peace and quiet. Only the car drive was somewhat calming, until Oswald suddenly shifted in his seat.

“Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” he said. “For example, what’s your favorite food?”

I wasn’t really in the mood for this conversation, but I knew he had to know more about me in order to gain his trust. I had to be as open as possible.

“My favorite food is salmon,” I said with a smile. “Preferably smoked, on a sandwich.”

“Very good,” he said, smiling as well. “Now, is there something you would like to ask me?”

I blinked a few times. That was better, a two-sided conversation!

“What’s your favorite color, Mr. Penguin?” I managed to ask quickly. A cheap, light question. Just like his.

“Purple,” he said with a smile.

“That’s my favorite color too!” I said sincerely.

“Well, well, who would have known we had so much in common?” he said, laughing, but somewhat sarcastic. “My turn: where do you go to college?”

“Up north,” I said. “The Gotham University for Journalism. I’m in my third year, sir.”

He nodded and gestured that it was my turn again. I cleared my throat.

“Oh, uhm, what are your plans for the future of Gotham?”

“A very good question,” he said. “My plan is... to remain its king, of course. But I would also like to find my way to the top of the ordinary world again. Perhaps... not in an entirely legal manner, since I tried that once before when I became mayor. Sadly, that little charade bore no fruit in the end. So, my plan for the future of Gotham is to make this city safe while thriving on organized crime. Does that all make sense to you?”

“Yes, I think it does,” I said, nodding.

“Good. Now, for my next question...”

He suddenly got that terrifying glance in his eyes again and that cold expression that made me swallow my fear.

“What is YOUR goal in helping me?” he asked, staring right at me, unblinking.

I forced myself to stay calm and not look away, but it had not been this difficult before. I actually wanted to jump out of the car or hide somewhere. But I remained seated.

“I really do understand your distrust, Mr. Penguin,” I said, and sadly I could hear my voice crack a little, “and I really want to prove myself to you. You have have nothing to—”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. That’s not what I was asking,” Penguin interrupted me with a raised finger. He started to chuckle in a most unpleasant way. “Just answer the question.”

I frowned.

“You wish to know my personal gain? But... I already told you that. I wish to become a great journalist, and there’s no better way to do that than by publishing stuff about the king of Gotham.”

“You’re not lying,” he said with a penetrating gaze. “But I also know you’re not telling me the whole truth. You’re holding something back, dear, and I want to know what it is.”

I had to say something. All of my instincts were telling me that it would all end here if I didn’t say SOMETHING. Every chance I had to win his trust was still ahead, but he wanted it now. Penguin’s presence became stronger by the second and felt more dangerous the longer I stayed quiet. I had to tell him something that held a core of truth, because he was able to recognize a liar like no-one else. And I knew the best liars... always tell the truth.

I took a deep breath, hesitated for a moment, and looked the other way.

“It’s going to sound really sad,” I said. “But... the truth is that I think too much. About everything. Life, death, my future, my responsibilities, and all the stuff that I know is going to be a problem someday. But working in a dangerous environment is somewhat... soothing.” I was quiet for a moment. “Not knowing if I’m going to make it through the day makes me forget about the burdens the future might bring. I know that when... IF I come home tonight, I will not worry about what’s to come, but simply be relieved I’m still alive. And when I lie down in bed I won’t think ‘man, I’m never gonna be able to make a living when I’m done studying.’ Instead, the thoughts that race through my mind are... ‘I might just lose my life tomorrow, so why should I worry about my future if I might not even be there to see it?’ And that single thought really helps me get some rest. I know it sounds weird and sad, but that’s how it is. Does that... make sense?”

When I looked at him again, his expression had completely changed. He looked at me with interest, sincere compassion.

“That does make sense,” he said with a much more calming voice than before. “I look at these things in a different way, though. You see, I always think about the future. I want to be three steps ahead of everyone else, always. I want to have... full control.”

“And that’s what I admire about you, Mr. Penguin,” I said, relieved by his reaction. “You never give up. You always have a plan. I honestly hope to be a little more like you someday.”

He smiled. “That’s so nice of you! But if we’re really putting our cards on the table here...” He tilted his head. “I suppose you would like to know why I still don’t trust you.”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, I would like that. That way maybe I... could so something about it.”

“Right,” he said. “Do you remember... Fish Mooney?”

I blinked.

“Yes, of course,” I said.

“You see, I used to work for Fish,” Penguin began. “Waaay back when. I approached her one day with a convincing story that I could be of great service to her. That I would treat het with the utmost respect, be her loyal servant. And I did, of course. I gained her trust because I did everything she said. I showed her my intelligence by giving her advice, telling her what I knew about Gotham. Does that sound familiar to you?”

I didn’t really know what to say. Penguin grinned for a moment.

“Of course, while I was putting on a very good show, staying at her side, maintaining a sad, slave-like image... I had the opportunity to gain a lot of intel on her. I managed to gather enough knowledge to destroy her.” He laughed again in a manner that made his entire body shake. “And I did! I cut her down like a rotten tree. Just as I did with Maroni and Falcone.” He leaned in on me. “So you understand why I’m a little cautious, don’t you? Yes, lady, you remind me too much of myself. And I... am dangerous.”

I understood now. What I did was somewhat consistent with Penguin’s plans to gain power. His paranoia was completely understandable... and in fact not entirely misguided.

“I see,” I said, keeping my cool once again. “It’s an honor to hear you say that you and I are similar, but... trust me when I say that I have no intention of cutting you down of taking your place. I am merely doing this to gain a higher position in the world of journalism alone. And I’m helping you because I respect you for what you’re trying to accomplish for this city.”

He put his hands on his knees as he sat straight again.

“Well, that puts us on the same page!” he said. “Ah, and right on time as well. We’re here!”


	4. Memories

_**The car**_ stopped moving in front of the entrance to the restaurant. I looked out the window and tilted my head for a moment. Hm. This restaurant was quite accessible, not as fancy as I had expected from a lunch with Sofia Falcone. I was actually relieved. I didn’t feel that comfortable in really classy surroundings. I quickly zipped open my handbag and took out the camera before exiting the car. I followed Penguin like his shadow to the restaurant. I had to watch out not to mimic his limp, that was kind of contagious for some reason. I saw a few of Falcone’s servants guarding the entrance of the restaurant.

“Mr. Cobblepot,” said one of the large men dressed in black with a low voice. “Sofia Falcone welcomes you.” He glanced at me and my camera. “Who’s the girl?”

“She’s with me,” Oswald responded quickly, and he wanted to step inside. The guard blocked the entrance.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, “but I’m gonna need a little more than that.”

Penguin rolled his eyes and took a huge step toward the man, who was about two feet taller than him.

“Listen _carefully_ , my friend,” he started, looking him right in the eye. “I can bring whoever I want with me to this meeting. I don’t need to explain myself to you OR miss Falcone.”

I cautiously raised my hand.

“Uhm, I don’t mind introducing myself to—”

“Sssssssshh!” Penguin interrupted me immediately, holding his finger right in front of my face without breaking eye contact with the guard. “That’s not the point. I just want her to realize that if she wants to work together, she should NOT pretend to be the one in charge. Do I make myself clear?”

I saw the guard glance at me skittishly, but he gave up when he saw the look on Penguin’s face.

“Yes, sir,” he said, stepping aside.

Penguin turned his head to look at me with a triumphant grin. To my surprise, this gave me an odd feeling of awe, but I decided to brush this feeling off immediately. I quickly followed him into the restaurant.

She was a young woman, sitting at a round table for two. The chair across from her was reserved for Oswald. The restaurant was crowded, but I didn’t have to weasel my way through the crowd. Penguin’s presence was known, and everyone stepped aside immediately. He went to stand behind his chair and lay his hands on the backrest.

“Sofia Falcone,” he said to the woman. “Thank you for inviting me here today to this... wonderful restaurant.”

“Thank you for coming, Oswald,” Sofia said. “Please, have a seat.”

She was a lovely looking lady. Nice clothes, pretty hair. She didn’t strike me as the kind of person who would willingly run the criminal underworld, but then again... neither did Oswald. I took a few steps to the side to have a better look at the situation. Sofia immediately looked my way when she noticed the camera I was carrying. I could see she was as direct as her father.

“What’s your name?” she asked me.

Before I could even answer her, Penguin raised his hand.

“Pay her no mind,” he said. “All you need to know is that she’s with me.”

I gave Sofia my ‘I’d-like-to-introduce-myself-to-you-but-I’m-not-the-one-in-charge’-look and she seemed to understand. Her entire focus went back to Penguin and I decided to start taking photos.

“I suppose you wish to speak with me about an alliance of sorts,” Penguin said, immediately getting down to business.

“That is what I had hoped to discuss with you,” Sofia said. “Since the return of the Falcone name to Gotham, both our territories have been unstable. There is a constant tension between your followers and those that are loyal to me.”

“That’s true,” Penguin said. “However, that tension can easily be wiped away if I take out your followers. After all, I still have the upper hand when it comes to manpower.”

“Yes, but that would result in even more chaos and bloodshed in Gotham,” Sofia immediately responded. “And that chaos will not be beneficial to you in any way. You will put yourself in a position where even your own men might turn on you.”

“Are you doubting the loyalty of my troops?” Penguin asked, obviously triggered.

“Absolutely not,” Sofia said calmly. “All I am saying is that chaos can lead to people making irrational decisions. If you do decide to wipe out my men, you will not gain anything. The only guarantee is that you will lose some of your troops, and there won’t be any benefit to it.”

Penguin seemed to ponder this for a moment, and at that moment the waiter suddenly approached their table. He put down two plates of goulash, to which Penguin immediately got a confused expression on his face.

“What is this?” he asked Sofia in slight distrust.

“Oh, I ordered us goulash before you arrived,” she said. “They say this is the best dish in Gotham.”

Penguin scoffed.

“Ha, well, I doubt it will be as good as my mother’s. She made the best goulash, following a recipe that was passed down the Cobblepot family for generations,” he said, picking up a fork. He took a scoop and put it in his mouth. He chewed for a moment. “Yeah, as I expected. It’s just...”

And then his expression shifted. He chewed once more, swallowed the food and stared at the plate like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at Sofia wide-eyed. I could see that he started trembling and he stood up skittishly.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” Sofia asked in confusion. “Oswald?”

“I have to go,” he said with a cracking voice.

Without saying another word, he turned around, staggered for a moment, and then walked to the exit as fast as he could. Sofia called after him, but he didn’t respond anymore. I quickly saluted Sofia before running after Penguin, who had almost reached the car. He aggressively pulled at the door and stepped inside. I hurried to the other side and also jumped into the car.

“Drive back to the lounge,” he told the driver.

“Yes, sir,” he said and the car started moving right away.

I didn’t really understand what had just happened, but I could feel that I was better off not talking to him right now. He was staring blankly ahead, his fist pressed against his mouth. I noticed he was crying. I quickly turned to the window and once again saw the building pass us by. I hadn’t expected to see him in tears, ever. Had the sudden memories of his mother become too much for him?

I decided to stay quiet and keep my head down. After all, it was generally known that an emotional Penguin was the most lethal and unpredictable force in all of Gotham.


	5. Trust

_**Victor Zsasz**_ had not returned yet and the lounge was still closed for visitors. Penguin hadn’t said a single word to me ever since we left the restaurant, and we were now back in the lounge. He stood before the block of ice once again, staring at the man in the green suit. I took a seat on one of the couches as silently as I could and, after taking out my typewriter, started to write down the article I could publish on Sofia and Oswald’s meeting. This was a lot harder than I had anticipated. His sudden departure seemed to be without reason, but I knew it had something to do with his mother. There was a certain gentleness to the situation, and I knew I could use that to our advantage. ‘Goulash Reminds The Penguin Of His Mother’ or ‘Penguin’s Meeting Cut Short By Sudden Burt Of Emotion’...? I stared at the paper.

‘The Penguin: More Human Than He Lets Us Believe’.

Almost there. I put in a new sheet of paper.

‘The Penguin: Kinder Than You Know’.

Perfect.

And as I was typing, I noticed Oswald waddling up to me. His face was no longer tear-stained, but I remained on my guard. With a friendly look, I raised my head.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Penguin?” I asked softly.

“I’m fine,” he said. I could hear a slight form of aggression in the tone of his voice. “What are you writing?”

I immediately turned the typewriter around and pointed at the paper.

“I’m writing an article about your meeting with Sofia Falcone—”

“Let me see that!” he said, immediately jumping forward and grabbing the paper. He removed it from the typewriter. His eyes flickered as he read what I had written down so far.

I held my breath. Please, let me live, I thought to myself. I tried to comprehend what his facial expressions meant, but he was still busy reading very hard. In fact, I had never seen anyone read THIS hard! His eyes were wide and when he finished, they turned to me. He put the sheet of paper down, slowly, on the table before me. He stepped around the table and sat down on the couch next to me, still staring at me with that odd look in his eyes. It gave me the heebie-jeebies. He should take a course on personal space sometime, I thought to myself, although this way I was able to see how well his mascara would have looked, had he not cried. He raised his eyebrows and gestured at the paper.

“That was... one of the nicest things I’ve ever read,” he said, and I was incredibly relieved to hear his voice has softened. “It’s strange how you write like you really know what’s going on inside my head.” He frowned. “You’re... not one of those Indian Hill residents, are you?”

“No, sir,” I said, laughing. “I can’t read people’s minds.”

Oswald bowed his head.

“Well, if that’s the case, then... you’re a very empathic lady,” he said. “And honestly, that could make you incredibly useful.” He was quiet for a moment. “You’re right, you know. I left the meeting because of my memories. The ones I have of my beloved mother should be warming, but... thinking of her only gives me that grim reminder of her cruel death.”

“I’m sorry about your mother, Mr. Penguin,” I said. “I know she was an amazing person.”

He sniffled and averted his gaze.

“She was,” he said. “And now I can’t help but wonder if... Sofia Falcone is using my memories to try and manipulate me. That goulash was made with the exact same recipe my mother used to make hers with. If Sofia did that on purpose, then what she’s doing is unforgivable.”

His leather gloves creaked as he clenched his fists.

“Using my sainted mother to get to me... I’ve seen that happen before.” He chuckled in an unpleasant way and shook his head. “I will not be merciful, oh no. I will torture the living hell out of her and her followers.”

I stared at his face. He was absolutely terrifying when thinking about torture.

“...IF she did it on purpose,” I said cautiously.

He looked confused, as if I had interrupted his deep thoughts, and he nodded quickly.

“Right, right, IF she did it on purpose,” he said. He seemed to be somewhat cheered up and he looked at me with a smile. “You keep up the good work, Rela. Publish it as soon as you can when it’s done.” He gave me a pat on the back and stood up.

With great relief, I watched as Penguin limped into his room and closed the door. I sighed deeply. The first step to gaining his trust had been taken. The closer I got, the more sympathy I had for him. That was of course necessary if I wished to publish believable stories about him, but it was important that I didn’t forget just WHAT the Penguin was: a manipulative killer.

I put the typewriter back on my lap and continued writing the article.

Tick, tick, tick—

PING!

That wasn’t my typewriter.

“Hello boss,” Zsasz called out as he nonchalantly stepped out of the elevator. “I did what you asked. Took a little longer than expected...”

His voice trailed off when he didn’t see Oswald anywhere in the room. Then he noticed me.

“Hello,” he said again in a dry voice.

“Hello, Mr. Zsasz,” I said. “How was your day?”

“You might get sick if I told you,” he responded. “So I won’t.”

I cleared my throat and nodded. “Right, uh, fair enough.”

Zsasz walked to the bar and sat down on it with a surprisingly graceful jump.

“So how was the Falcone meeting, huh?” he asked as he started to remove the grit from his guns.

“Well, it... was cut short,” I said. “He got rather emotional.”

“Who, Penguin?” Zsasz laughed. “Ah, but when doesn’t he?” He took out a knife that was covered in blood and started to clean it with a bottle of alcoholic leftovers he found on the bar.

“You have a point,” I said, glancing at the knife with a frown. “Nevertheless, I am almost done writing the first article.”

“Epic,” he said, extremely uninterested. “Keep it up.”

I shrugged and let Zsasz do his thing. The last few sentences were written down, and I removed the sheet from the machine and bundled it up. I took the undeveloped photographs out of my camera and tied the film to the bundle. On my way back to the apartment, I would drop by the office building of The Daily Gothamite to deliver the article. This day had been long enough and the club would soon be flooded with partygoers who I certainly didn’t want to bother. I said Zsasz goodbye, but I glanced at the man in the ice one more time before leaving the lounge. The longer I looked at him, the more certain I was that he was still alive in there.

“Riddle-man,” I mumbled to myself as I walked past him.


	6. The Warehouse

_**The article**_ had to be published today by The Daily Gothamite. It might not have been the most popular newspaper, but to receive an opportunity to write for The Gotham Times, one needed more recognition. Were my articles a success, then perhaps more popular newspapers would contact me. That was what I was going for, of course. I was lucky that news on Penguin was always favored, for some reason. Well, he did become the mayor once, of course...

PING!

When I walked into the lounge that morning, I was greeted by a young woman with red hair and a shiny, green coat. She waved at me like a little kid while approaching me.

“Hi, you must be Rela!” she said cheerfully. “I’m Ivy.”

I was kind of surprised to see her here. I scanned the room, but Zsaszs and Penguin were nowhere to be found.

“Uh, good morning, Ivy,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you. Say, uhm... what are you doing here?”

“Well, I used to be on Penguin’s team of freaks,” she said in an airy voice. “So I visit the lounge now and then to see how he’s doing!”

“That’s really nice of you,” I said, thinking. “Is Penguin still sleeping?”

But his voice immediately echoed through the lounge.

“No, I’m as awake as I’ll ever be!”

Ivy and I turned around. He walked from his room into the lounge. His hair seemed to stand up even straighter than yesterday.

“How nice to see you two are becoming acquainted,” he said, limping towards us. “But, Ivy, I’m afraid I must ask you to leave right away.”

Ivy lowered her shoulders.

“Ahw, but Pengy, I’ve only just gotten here! And it’s nice to have another girl on the team for once! That Victor Zsasz guy always creeps me out.”

I watched how Penguin’s eyes grew wider as soon as he heard the word ‘Pengy’.

“Yes,” he said, “but unlike you, Rela knows when to keep her mouth shut.”

Ivy crossed her arms and looked at me for a moment.

“Hm, that’s pretty boring,” she said with a frown, to which I looked away.

With a few aggressive steps, Penguin approached Ivy. I could see that she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him; she didn’t move a muscle and merely raised her eyebrows at him.

“Boring is better than annoying,” he said bitterly. “I suggest you leave right now.”

Ivy scowled at him.

“Hm!” she then said, and she strode into the elevator with her chin up. She banged her fist against the button and the elevator doors closed. I slowly turned to look at Penguin.

“Pay her no mind,” he said, sighing. “She’s childish.”

“I thought she was nice,” I said with a shrug. “Are you friends with her?”

“I wouldn’t call her a friend,” he said. “She saved my life once, so in return I provided her with money, food, and a place to stay. But she has stopped giving me anything of benefit. I can’t keep giving her everything if all she does is talk when I tell her to stay quiet!” He glanced at the man in the ice. “Sadly, there aren’t many people who realize that life is a two-way street.”

He kept staring at him in silence. I tilted my head and cleared my throat.

“I delivered the article to The Daily Gothamite,” I said. “I expect it to be published today.”

Penguin turned to me.

“Ah, excellent!” he said, smiling. “You’re a swift one, I appreciate that.”

PING!

Zsasz had returned. He was carrying an apple which he took a bite out of while walking towards us.

“Sorry, I forgot breakfast so I had to grab something on my way here,” he said, gesturing at the apple. He waved at me for a moment. “Hi Rela.”

“Good morning, Victor.”

He looked at Penguin.

“So what’re we doing today, boss?”

Oswald walked to the coat rack and took a black coat off it.

“Today, we will go to the warehouse to retrieve the shipment for my auction this evening,” he said as he put on the coat and grabbed his walking cane. “I trust the goods have arrived safely.”

“Yeah, about that,” Zsasz started dryly, “someone tried to steal from us last night. At the docks.”

Penguin’s eyes grew wide, and it surprised me he didn’t approach him like he would anyone else. I could see he was keeping his distance with Zsasz, and I completely understood why.

“And it seemed unimportant to you to mention this earlier?!”

“Don’t worry,” Zsasz responded. “My men caught them before they could get their hands on anything.”

Penguin sighed deeply and turned to the frozen man again.

“This is what I have to deal with, Ed,” he said.

Zsasz and I looked at each other for a second and we shrugged in confusion.

“You’re gonna tag along?” Zsasz asked me.

I frowned.

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know if I can be of any use if you’re only going to retrieve supplies,” I said.

“Oh, you’re coming with us alright,” Penguin said as he turned around. “The more, the merrier, wouldn’t you agree?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes... I suppose so.”

Penguin walked to the elevator while chuckling, and three of us stepped inside. We slowly went down.

Ah, how I hated the elevator. Zsasz was standing right next to me and I noticed he was studying me from head to toe. I frowned uncomfortably and leaned back and forth on my legs.

“Nice shoes,” Zsasz said suddenly.

A little confused, I looked his way. He seemed to have given me a genuine compliment. I looked down at my black, tied boots. They were Victor’s style, alright. I looked at his black leather jacket and nodded.

“Uh, thank you,” I said quickly. “I like your jacket.”

Zsasz gave me a half-smile and I quickly went back to staring ahead. Penguin sighed. The elevator stopped and the door opened. There was a man standing in the lobby, waiting for us. He was a short, older man with huge glasses and a fearful expression on his face.

“Oh, Mr. Penn,” Penguin said as he stepped outside. “Very good, you must come along to the warehouse as well. Did you bring your notebook? At what time was the auction again?”

I saw how Penn quickly adjusted his glasses and skittishly pulled out his notebook. He flipped through it and cleared his throat.

“T-the auction begins at 9 o’clock this evening, sir,” he said hastily. “Some of Gotham’s elite will be there, including Bruce Wayne, sir.”

I tilted my head upon hearing that name, and Penguin started chuckling loudly.

“Bruce Wayne, you say? He has become quite the outgoing fellow.”

That made me think for a minute. Why would Bruce Wayne show his face at an auction of the infamous Penguin? Wayne Enterprises’ reputation was starting to get a little foggy, but this action would only make it worse.

But Penguin was simply glad that another billionaire came to his event, and he didn’t give it another thought. We walked outside and took the car to the warehouse. Zsasz drove the car, Penguin sat next to him. I sat in the backseat with Mr. Penn, who stared ahead with wide eyes during the entire drive. The warehouse was close to the docks of Gotham, where the shipments had arrived the night before. I kept quiet as we traveled to the location.

We left the car. It was cloudy and damp today, but I realized that I had never even seen the sun ever since I had come to Gotham. Penguin walked in an aggressive manner to the building where his wares had to be. The owner of the deliveries came to meet us. He was a young man with a black suit and neat, slicked back hair.

“Welcome, Mr. Cobblepot,” he said. “Your shipment is right this way.” He gestured and also looked in our direction. “Please, follow me.”

There stood a couple of boxes containing expensive, antique products stacked in the center of the warehouse. Everything was labeled ‘O. Cobblepot’.

“Nice place,” Zsasz commented, but I couldn’t tell if he meant that or not.

“Everything seems to be in order,” Oswald said as he looked at the supplies. “Mr. Penn, please remove ‘check the wares’ from my to-do list.”

Penn grabbed his notebook and pencil.

“Of course, sir,” he said as he quickly crossed out a sentence.

RING RING!

And then Mr. Penn’s phone ringed. He answered it. Zsasz, Penguin and I watched.

“Good day, this is Mr. Penn, one of Mr. Cobblepot’s assistants. How may I help you?”

He was quiet for a moment and looked at Penguin with wide eyes.

“Well, that’s great to hear, madam,” he said. “I shall inform Mr. Cobblepot and put you on the guest list.”

Mr. Penn hung up the phone and Penguin stared at him impatiently.

“Well?” he said almost immediately. “Who was that?”

“Another member of Gotham’s elite, sir,” Mr. Penn responded. “She told me she read the article about you that was published this morning, and that she has gained great respect for you. She would gladly stop by this evening to participate in the auction, and thus contribute to your cause.”

Oh, that turned out nicely already. I looked at Penguin who suddenly started to chuckle. He abruptly turned to me, and the quick movement startled me. The grin on his face was almost terrifying. I even backed down a little when he took a few huge steps towards me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Your skills are already paying off,” he said. “My experience with reporters has never been that positive, but... you seem to take an entirely different approach on journalism.”

Even though I didn’t want it, I felt a shyness come over me. I quickly put the feeling aside and nodded.

“Of course,” I said calmly. “It’s important to be a little original if I want to make it big.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Zsasz slowly turned to look at me. I gave him a quick glance. The look in his eyes was... different. I had no time to figure out the meaning of that look, because Penguin turned around again and started to talk.

“Then I’d say we’re done here!” he said. “Make sure the supplies are in my club this afternoon. Then we will be on our way! Oh, and Mr. Penn...”

Mr. Penn immediately looked at him with wide eyes. Penguin smiled.

“I expect more of Gotham’s elite to contact you today, so... I want you to go find someone to help you with answering the calls.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Cobblepot, right away,” Mr. Penn said. “I will be back in the Iceberg Lounge around noon.”

“Perfect,” Penguin said. “Victor, Rela, it’s time to go back. Oh, and let’s take two boxes with us already, just in case.”

Zsasz stared sheepishly ahead and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to respond to. Penguin gestured aggressively at us.

“Now, please!” he exclaimed.

Zsasz and I looked at each other for a moment and then each took a box with us. We carried them to the car and drove back to the Iceberg Lounge. Mr. Penn went to search for someone to help him. I sat in the backseat again, Zsasz was driving the car and Penguin sat next to him. And during the entire drive back to the lounge, I could see how Zsasz occasionally looked at me through the rearview mirror with that odd look in his eyes. And it wasn’t the same, shark-like gaze he normally had. I didn’t know why, but I knew something was wrong... and that was quite unpleasant.


End file.
